


Career Day

by charivari



Series: Decepticon Teachers AU [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Humanformers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human AU. It was Ratchet's fault. He agreed to do the talk for Career Day. Then got a cold. And convinced Pharma to take his place. In the hallway he meets Tarn, a giant with a lot of facial piercings who is surprising intellectual. Pharma/Tarn centric</p>
            </blockquote>





	Career Day

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning a High School AU with Tarn and Pharma as teachers. But then I couldn't really picture Pharma as a teacher XD Since it’s a Human AU, Tarn’s T-Cog addiction has been replaced with an addiction to piercings. Which he can wear during school hours because of the school’s policy for tolerance. At least that’s how I’m justifying it XD Tarn grew up with Nickel as his foster mom. The rest of the DJD are his foster brothers :3

Pharma blamed Ratchet. It was his fault. He was the one who agreed to give a talk at Rodion High’s Career Day. Then he had gotten a cold and called Pharma (on his day off) asking him to go in his place. Pharma hated children. He had only agreed because Ratchet promised it would take no less than 20 minutes and now owed Pharma a favor. 

A big favor, since Pharma had been sitting in a chair outside the classroom for 40 minutes waiting for his turn to address the kids. A cop was in there right now. He had briefly introduced himself to Pharma as Orion Pax. Pharma drummed his fingers on his thigh impatiently. He wished Pax would hurry up so he could take his turn and leave.

There was nothing stimulating in the hallway to stare at. Just rows of horrible cream lockers, reeking of public school mediocrity. 

Then Pharma caught sight of a behemoth. The man was enormous, broad chest and arms swathed in a leather jacket. His face, which might have been attractive, was covered in piercings. Pharma felt his lip curl in distaste. He could hear the man humming, a tune that sounded awfully familiar. 

Pharma tensed as the behemoth halted in front of him.

“You look a little too old to be in school.”

His voice took Pharma by surprise. It was a rich baritone with a cultured accent. A voice that didn’t match his appearance. 

“I’m here for Career Day,” Pharma found himself explaining. 

“Ah I see,” the man extended a giant hand, “Tarn.”

“Doctor,” Pharma said, taking his hand and noting his powerful grip.

Tarn’s brow, mutilated by a piercing, quirked,

“Does the Doctor have a name?” 

“Pharma. But I prefer Doctor. Are you a teacher?”

He doubted he could be. Perhaps an “out there” guidance counselor. So Pharma was surprised when Tarn nodded.

“Music,” he said, “Music theory to be exact. History. Classical music is a preference of mine.”

Pharma couldn’t hold back his skepticism. 

“Are you sure you’re not into head-banging?”

Tarn laughed. A rich yet slightly threatening sound. 

“Because of my piercings?” he smiled, “A result of my addictive personality. Not what type of music I enjoy.”

“And who is exactly is your favorite composer?” Pharma decided to test him.

Tarn hummed,

“That is a difficult question…”

He launched into an eloquent analysis of Beethoven and Mozart. Wagner, Verdi, Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky. Pharma soon joined the discussion, inserting his opinions. Overall they agreed on quite a few things. It was rare for Pharma to meet someone who stimulated his interest. Ratchet was one. They could discuss medicine for hours on end. But Ratchet wasn’t a fan of classical music. Tarn was an unlikely intellectual equal, at least as far as the subject matter was concerned.

“You certainly know your stuff Doctor,” Tarn said, after Pharma made a particularly astute observation on Mendelssohn.

Pharma threw him a smug smile,

“What can I say, it’s a passion of mine. Besides surgical procedures and vintage wine.”

“I have tickets to the opening of The Magic Flute in Iacon,” Tarn said unexpectedly, “I was going to take one of my foster brothers. But they aren’t exactly connoisseurs of fine arts. Would you like to accompany me?”

Pharma felt himself cringing. Yes he did want to attend that production. But with Tarn? He didn’t look like a traditional opera goer. He would stand out. He would make Pharma stand out by association. 

“My offer is unacceptable to you?” Tarn was frowning now.

Pharma was usually sharp-tongued. But Tarn was big enough to pummel him into a coma. So the truth was better left unsaid and a compromise reached.

“Do you own a tuxedo?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Well that was improvement to a leather jacket. 

“Will you take out your piercings?” 

Tarn shifted forward so their legs were almost touching. He leaned down, 

“I could be persuaded,” he murmured, the proximity of his voice sending shivers down Pharma’s spine, “Any other conditions?”

“For now,” Pharma said haughtily, “If I think of others, I’ll let you know.”

Tarn was amused,

“Oh please do,” the way he said it made heat rise in Pharma’s cheeks, “Now how will I contact you?”

Pharma felt the balance of power shift in Tarn’s favor. Almost grudgingly he provided his cell number. 

A bell rang overhead. Children started piling out into the hallway. Towering over the chaos Tarn looked supremely calm. Pharma noticed the kids seemed to give him a wide berth. 

“I will call later in the week to make arrangements,” Tarn said smoothly, “I have a class so I really must go.”

Pharma started as Tarn’s hand brushed his face,

“I look forward to our date. Doctor.”

He turned before Pharma could reply. Kids scattered out of his path as he moved down the hall.

“It’s not a date,” he said out loud.

It definitely wasn't. Not in the romantic sense of the word. 

“I’m very sorry Doctor,” Pharma glanced over to see Career teacher staring at him apologetically, “We ran out of time. The kids adored Detective Pax.”

“Well that's what the world needs. More cops than doctors,” Pharma quipped sarcastically.

At least I got a free ticket out of it, he mused on his way out.


End file.
